


What If Your Pain Could(n't) Be Erased?

by Garin



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, spoiler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:39:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garin/pseuds/Garin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dís returns to Erebor long time after the fall of her beloved sons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What If Your Pain Could(n't) Be Erased?

**Author's Note:**

> As a warning: The book has been out for long enough, really, to know about the major events towards the end. However, if you're oblivious about it, don't go ahead, it might actually be an unpleasant surprise.
> 
> This is a one shot, a bit of an inner monologue that has been in my thoughts for a qhile so I put it down. Please try to not kill me and enjoy.

Erebor was reclaimed. The battle was won. And yet, the prize didn’t seem fair. She would’ve given everything to make things undone, she would’ve granted Smaug to keep the kingdome forever if she could only have her sons and brother back. The news had struck her, leaving her mourning for weeks, if not even months. She hadn’t allowed anybody to go near her for days, only quietly grieving in the corner of her chambers. The journey to her long-lost home was a lonely one, too. Dís had refused to let anybody accompany her on the way there, even if it had been a long and exhausting voyage. She stood just before the huge gate, the smallest of smirks playing on her lips. Oh yes, she had missed this. The impressive view of the dwarves’ kingdome, the feeling of finally coming home. Even if Dis had only been a dwarfling when the dragon had attacked, she always thought Erebor her home and that she would do anything to go back. Her views had changed now. Truth be told, she wished she wouldn’t even be there. Being one of the few Durin’s left, a certain responsibility was resting on her shoulders. It was only after he brother’s death that she understood the burden he had to bear. A pity, really. She regretted picking on him about it way too late. 

A shudder went down her spine. It was a horribly cold day, it would be best to go inside. After a few more moments of hesitating, she walked through the opened gate, heart skipping a beat as she let her eyes shift over the glory of the dwarven kingdome. Oh, the stone halls and the familiar paths and rooms made her smile. A few dwarves greeted her, but she only replied with a small bow, never once stopping on her way to the balcony. It was an important place, she had heard. It had been there that her brother had figured that a dragon was attacking. Erebor was huge and beautiful, but she hardly enjoyed its beauty fully. Grief was still not letting her rest and joy was not one of the few things granted to her during her time of mourning her family. 

Again, she thought of it as unfair. Her sons had only been children, in her eyes, they hadn’t deserved to go down like this. She silently cursed her brother, smirking to herself at the thought of his stubborn grin, of the joy he found in planning to get their home back. Not in the years before he died, but earlier. When Erebor had just been taken and there was seemingly no hope. Dís had been crying for days, not even her father was able to calm her. Only when Thorin attempted to, she finally smiled again. He had picked her up, let her sit on his shoulders and carried her for a long while, telling her stories - the funny kind, that is - and joking around only to make her laugh again. She would pull on his hair and treat him almost like a horse, demanding that he would run faster or slower. And if she asked him nicely, now and then, he even did. The moment he had decided to put her down again, she simply clung to his neck, refusing to let go. Nobody could convince her to let go of her big brother, of the one person in her life that managed to always make her smile. So he let her sit on his shoulders until she fell asleep, carried her in his arms for a while long and only put her down again when they stopped to rest. 

A sad smirk formed on her face, tears already filling up her eyes. The memmories were simply cruel. What once made her giggle and happy only seemed to remind her of her dispair now.

And her boys, oh, they would’ve loved the kingdome. Never had they seen it. Only the stories had made them want to go there, only the fantastic, bright little stories of the great halls and secret paths, of the mines and the jolly festivals told them what they had been fighting for. They would never see what they died for. They would never see what they reclaimed, never see what gave their kin the feeling of being whole again. Oh, she shouldn’t have let them go. They died an honourable death, defending their uncle to their last breath… 

She swallowed, tears running down her cheeks as she let her gaze shift over the field before the mountain. Why hadn’t she stopped them? There was a stinging feeling inside her chest, she took a deep breath. 

First her husband, then the last important beings in her life. Was she simply doomed to be lonely? Maybe. But they didn’t deserve to die. Thorin had been such a caring and loving person. He might have been laughing less and less as the years passed but he was still the same brave, good being she had learned to love with all her heart. And Fíli and Kíli… they had been so young, so ambitious. The thought of making Dís and their uncle proud, the idea of being the ones who reclaimed what the dwarves had been longing for for ages had been way too tempting for them to decline. 

And then she broke down, fell on her kness and simply buried her face in her hands, tears streaming down her palms. She wanted it to end, she wanted her pain to be erased. But maybe this is what she got for not stopping them, maybe she was to blame for their deaths by not doing everything to avoid that journey. Erebor seemed unimportant, a mere consolation for the loss. But she didn’t want it. Not anymore. The kingdome wouldn’t ever seem as shiny to her again, it would never seem as much of a home to her again as it used to. 

All she would see in it would be death, loss, grief and that it had simply taken too much sacrifices of too much value to even the prize.

She had wished returning would end her grief, she had wished it would erase the pain or at least lessen it. But it had only made it worse.


End file.
